Marrakech
مراكش
Our drive from Casablanca to Marrakech was not too pleasant. We had the usual problem getting out of the Casablanca, which added at least 30 minutes spent lost in the streets of the city. We also stopped by the Casablanca airport to ask the car rental guys about the red exclamation point light that appeared on our dashboard this morning. They casually explained it meant we were out of brake fluid—that’s all.
I was hoping for a four-lane highway to Marrakech, but I was too optimistic—the road is two-lane and very crowded. While the distance is only 150 miles, it took about 4 hours, dodging over-packed trucks, buses with people hanging from the doors, taxis going from town to town, and wealthy, Moroccan sports car drivers.
Finally, we came upon a huge congregation of adobe buildings in the distance. The haze hanging over the flat, sub-Saharan plain was daunting. I don’t precisely know what my impression of Marrakech was before I arrived there, but it’s safe to say that whatever they were, they were wholly wrong. Marrakech is not the European-like city of Casablanca, rather, it appears like an oversized oasis in the middle of the desert. The red-orange buildings reflect the hue of the surrounding earth and, aside from the minarets sprinkled around town, none appear to be over three stories tall.
Once in the city, we were pulled over for speeding. Pram skillfully begged his way out of the 400 dirham (about 45 USD) fee, which must be paid on the spot. We parked the car just inside the medina and walked around looking for a place to stay. At times we were guided, other times we were on our own. We ended up splurging for a nice resort hotel that cost a lot, but was a nice refuge from the bustling city.
The Koutoubia Mosque was completed in the late 12th century by the Almohads. Its 230-foot (70-m) minaret is the tallest structure in the city. What does it mean when the tallest tbuilding in your city is over 800 years old?
The square around the Koutoubia Mosque, where there used to be a booksellers market. The name Koutoubia comes from the Arabic word for books--'koutoub.'
Pram in a narrow alley in the medina. The short lane leads to a courtyard, the equivalent of the western block. All the families that live on the courtyard socialize and the kids were all playing with one another. The kids also like doodling on the walls.
The medina in Marrakech thrives with activity. This is one of its widest streets and is shared by merchants, carts, donkeys, and tourists.
Pram poses in a clean, uncrowded street in the medina--a rare sight.
Pram poses with a Moroccan donning a fez.
Refreshingly, in Morocco, handicrafts remain a staple of the economy. But, it's mostly men's work. The men typically do the intricate sewing while boys are taught the craft and perform the more laborious duties.
We stopped off in a spice souq, the large market south of the medina. Pram and I began talking to this guy, who owned this store.
Spices for sale in one of the large markets, or souqs. Here, we have cinnimon, insense, and other bundles in the bottom row. Cone-shaped powdered spices are above. The color call to any passerby, and we were sucked in like everyone else.
Just outside the medina, the asphault streets widen and are mostly used by mopeds, taxis, and the occasional donkey.
Traffic in Marrakech is unlike anyplace I've visited. Even Casablanca does not have the slow pace that Marrakech has. Donkey-pulled carts are still used to haul goods around the city. The shirtless guy on the bicycle is a tourist, no Moroccan would walk around the streets shirtless.
The Koutoubia Mosque is the tallest building in the city. It rises 200 feet above the satellite-dish-covered roofs of Marrakech's hotels and houses.
As the sun goes down, Marrakech comes alive. This swas shot from our hotel's roof.
We decided to stay in a rather luxurious hotel in Marrakech. While not typically my thing, I was glad we chose to stay here. It provided respite from the heat, dirt, smells, and overall chaos of the medina.